Give Me Things That Don't Get Lost
by Wolf Maid
Summary: One-shot. Mal/Simon. Simon wants to tell everyone they’re together, but Mal’s a bit reluctant…


AN: One-shot. Mal/Simon. Simon wants to tell everyone they're together, but Mal's a bit reluctant…

Disclaimer: None of it's mine. Still. Sad day. Title from Neil Young's "Old Man."

…X…

…Give Me Things That Don't Get Lost….

…X…

"Don't," Mal says softly, but Simon just looks at him, eyes narrowed, arms crossed firmly in front of him, obviously miffed.

"What?" he snaps. Mal sighs theatrically, running a hand through his already mussed hair.

"I'm sorry, all right?" he tries. Simon's jaw twitches.

"What was that, _Captain_?"

"Look, you just took me by surprise," Mal offers. Simon rolls his eyes.

"Mal, it's been—"

"I _know_ how long it's been," he hisses. "I just…I didn't know you wanted to _tell_ everybody—"

"You said it wasn't just about the sex!" Simon growls, and Mal throws his hands up, exasperated.

"It's not!"

"So what, you're just _ashamed_ of me, now?"

"I'm—look, I just don't know if I want—"

"Why do you want us to be a secret?" Simon presses, and his hands have tightened into fists and his eyes are dark and it's because he looks so _hurt_ that Mal (reluctantly) relents.

"You're gonna change your mind," he grumbles underneath his breath. Simon frowns.

"What?" he asks.

"You're gonna change your _gorram_ mind!" Mal repeats louder, eyes glued to the floor they're standing on. Simon blinks.

"Change my mind about what?" he asks, obviously confused which in Mal's opinion makes this whole debacle that much worse.

"About us," he spits, bound and determined to not offer up anymore more that he has to. Of course, Simon can be like a dog with a bone.

"What the hell are you talking about, Mal?" he scowls, and an irritated Mal rounds on him.

"They're gonna think you're too good for me, and they're right, and they all love you—'cept Jayne, o' course, but he don't matter—and I'm older and all scarred up and touchy 'n moody and they're gonna convince you to find someone who's better for you!"

Simon stares at the half-shaking Captain with wide-eyes, completely surprised.

"Mal?" he asks softly. Mal slumps onto the bed behind him.

"What?" he moans, arms now crossed over his face.

"Are you…being insecure?" Simon asks, gamely trying to suppress the grin that's threatening to break out.

"No!" Mal snaps, sitting back up and looking outraged.

"Cuz you always try to play the cocky bastard, but you're sounding pretty needy right now," Simon continues, biting the insides of his cheeks at Mal's growing scowl.

"Y'know what?" Mal growls, "Go find someone else. I don't need t' hear 'em say it, _I'll_ say it—go off 'n—"

"_Mal_—" Simon interrupts, sounding wounded, and with a groan Mal flops back on the bed.

"Fine. Go tell 'em. And don't bother telling me, I'll just assume you'll be seein' other people…"

"_Mal_," Simon drawls, and Mal shakes his head firmly.

"No, Doc. Not happenin'."

"Oh, come _on_, Mal, you're their Captain, you—"

"No."

"Jayne'll hit me. You know he takes any excuse, and he'll think I've gone 'n hurt—"

"Good," Mal grunts. "I hope it hurts."

"Kaylee'll want to ask a hundred questions," Simon tries.

"Don't pull the Kaylee card—" Mal cuts in, outraged, and with a grin Simon crawls onto the bed next to Mal.

"What were you saying, about being moody and—"

"Old," Mal frowns. "Now let an old man die in peace and—"

"_Mal_…" Simon whispers into his ear and Mal stops speaking with a groan.

"You ain't playin' fair, Doc."

Simon just grins. "I never do. Let's go tell 'em."

"You're gonna leave me," Mal sighs, and with a wicked sort of smile Simon traces his tongue along Mal's ear.

"Have I got your attention?" he asks once Mal's spine has stiffened and his breathing's quickened in a gratifyingly responsive manner.

"Yes," Mal grumbles, still trying to sound angry.

"Good. Mal, no power in the 'verse could make me leave your side."

Mal turns over on his side and looks Simon in the eye. "Promise, Doc?" he asks, a small grin starting on his lips.

"Promise," Simon says. "Now, can we go tell 'em?"

"Sure, Mal smirks. "We can tell 'em, Doc…in, say, an hour," he adds, pulling Simon closer.

"Whatever you say, Captain," Simon replies, unusually agreeable.

Mal just laughs.

_Finis_

* * *

AN: Cor, look how prolific I'm being! Oh, poor schoolwork that's suffering as a result. Anyway, a bit of Mal/Simon fluff because I love them so, and I desperately needed some lovey-dovey-ness. Even from these two rascals. Hope you liked! Much Love, Wolfie


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